


queen of my throne (bet this is what you want)

by ViciousRhythm



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Woman on Top, corsets, indulgent sex, little bit of size difference, maybe as a fetish?, slight D/S dynamic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 06:46:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13653627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViciousRhythm/pseuds/ViciousRhythm
Summary: Toni believes there are some things that truly deserve indulgence when one can afford top end. Cars are at the top of the list, rapidly followed by good coffee and better lingerie. And wholly decadent sex, when one can get it.





	queen of my throne (bet this is what you want)

**Author's Note:**

> [thejgatsbykid](http://thejgatsbykid.tumblr.com/) encouraged me to post the corset-inspired porn we discussed, so here you have it!
> 
> The corset in question is [here](http://royalblack.at/guardian-of-time.html) if anyone cares to look.

There are many things Toni Stark doesn’t actually have to have the most expensive, most cutting edge version of. For example, her band shirts are all earned vintage, having been worn nearly to death over close to two decades, and she still uses a good, old-fashioned screwdriver set. Her coffee maker in the lab is the same piece of shit that worked well enough at MIT, her hand lotion is regular old over-the-counter something, and the brand of cereal in the cupboards doesn’t matter. There are some things, however, that deserve indulgence when one can afford top end. Cars are at the top of the list, rapidly followed by good coffee and better lingerie. And wholly decadent sex, when one can get it. That is an indulgence Toni caters to as often as possible, and thankfully Steve lets her indulge quite often.

The woman who designed Toni’s current, ah, outfit is a brilliant Viennese tailor who may or may not have intended her one-of-a-kind corsets to be fucked in. For nearly three thousand euros, it probably shouldn’t be, but then, when one designs for Antonia Stark, one might make certain assumptions about whether her husband would be getting his turn at helping her out of it, or at the very least helping her get the most out of wearing it. One would be right to assume.

Steve, for his part, is entirely naked, which is how Toni likes him best. All that smooth, pale Irish skin laid out for her, sliding over powerful muscles contorting at her command. Their bed is incidental, the sheets and covers pulled out of the way so they can take up the whole space without anyone getting tangled. Except Steve’s hands, that is, wrapped in gold silk rope tying him to the headboard. Toni reaches up to circle his wrists, nails scraping down his forearm gently, and Steve groans and bucks up into her.

Toni rolls with the movement, hips rocking forward and up so Steve can’t quite manage the dirty grind he’s unconsciously going for.

“Did I tell you to move, beloved?” Toni asks. Steve shakes his head, a little wildly, but presses back down into the mattress even as Toni can feel his thighs shake under her with the effort to be still. “Good boy,” she murmurs, leaning to kiss his temple. It’s an effort to bend, laced up tight in a corset of fine satin and patent leather, but it’s worth it for how Steve leans into her touch.

Sitting back upright, Toni pushes her open palm into the middle of his chest and resettles in his lap, legs spread wide around where he’s buried inside her. The movement pushes a sigh out of her lips, head tipping back just enough to feel the designer collar press into her throat. Steve sighs with her, like their lungs are working in tandem and Toni smiles at the thought. Looking down at him again, she runs her hand sideways, letting the edge of her ring catch just slightly on his nipple and watching his stomach muscles jump. His cock twitches as well, a movement Toni can feel intimately.

“You know I’m not as flexible in this,” Toni says, a faint regret in her tone. “So you’ll have to settle for just my hands, darling. Think that’ll be enough?”

“Yes.” It’s less an agreement and more of a grunt, but Toni will take it. Despite the play, she knows Steve and his body well enough by now she could likely take him apart with one hand and some well-chosen words. It is always a bit flooring how very passionate Steve is about her, still, even after the honeymoon period has died down. Even now, she can’t look him in the eye for too long, or she’ll go all to pieces with how obviously in love her husband is. Steve’s always managed to make her heart race with just a look.

It’s only fair she repay the favor.

Without further ado, Toni goes about doing just that, rocking in his lap and then raising up on her knees to ride him properly. The compression from the corset makes her go short of breath faster than usual, though that might also be the fact that she _likes_ this - likes feeling expensive fabric curved tightly around her ribs and stomach, breasts pushed high and obvious. Toni likes knowing she looks regal and extravagant and a little bit debauched, her hair fallen out of the intricate design she’d spent an hour letting someone else engineer. It sticks in dark tendrils to her forehead and shoulders where she’s started to sweat with effort.

Steve’s own blond hair is plastered to his forehead, and Toni pushes it up and out of the way, nails dragging over his scalp on the way. He leans into her touch - always _always_ leans into whatever she gives him - and Toni gives in to the urge to pull, just lightly, just enough to make Steve groan and say her name and swallow so she can see his throat bob. If she had more room to move, she’d put her mouth there, bite him and taste his skin, but she settles for grinding down onto his cock and listening to that groan turn into a whimper. Steve’s unfairly plush mouth is open, panting, so Toni puts her fingers there, pulling at his flushed bottom lip and catching his attention.

His eyes are hazy, blue and bright and clearing as he focuses on her. Toni keeps moving, a steady, almost driving pace that keeps both of them gasping for breath, and Steve holds her gaze. This is when he’s most dangerous, Toni thinks, a shiver running down the length of her spine, following the laces and gromets from her shoulder blades to her tailbone. Steve looks at her like she’s precious, like he’s found some sort of salvation when they share breaths and bodies, and it makes sex into something more, something elevated that Toni feels beyond her body.

Her own thighs are shaking now, tickled by the delicate fabric draped on either side of her, just barely concealing their modesty if anyone were to look. She knows she makes a decadent sight, bound up in satin and jewels and the moonlight filtering in through their windows, tiny crystals still pinned in her ruined hair, her eyes dark and heavy like Steve tells her they get when she’s looking at him, when she’s enjoying everything he lets her do to him. She can almost see it reflected back in the hungry, adoring look Steve gives her back. If his hands were free, he’d be holding her to him, manhandling her the way he can, the way that makes Toni feel more cradled than controlled. She can feels the tension in his legs and hips, struggling to be good for her, and the devotion is as good as how perfectly he fits her, filling her up and letting her use him to hit her just right inside.

“Knees up, sweetheart,” Toni orders, breath short as she can feel herself approaching the edge. Steve obeys, bracing his feet on the mattress and giving Toni something to lean back against and push with her hands, a slow up and down in which he nearly pops free before Toni drives back down hard. The next is one handed, Toni’s other hand going between her legs and barely needing to touch before her orgasm rushes over her and she can distantly hear Steve make some incoherent noise that could be interpreted as her name while she flutters and tightens around him.

Toni catches herself talking when she comes down, practically purring, “Oh, yes, Steve, so good for me. Thank you, baby, feels so good.” and other things she has absolutely no control over, all in a slightly slurry, low voice that she recognizes as a symptom of being well fucked. She stretches momentarily, then leans down to pick apart the ties around Steve’s wrist with clumsy, pleasure-drunk fingers. He shakes free smoothly, dragging Toni into a sloppy drawn out kiss before his hands travel down her body. She can’t feel it in detail through the fabric and boning of her corset, but when Steve stops, his big hands are around her waist, almost meeting around the artificially reduced width. Toni moans into his mouth at the feel of it, knees hitching up so Steve shifts inside her.

“Fuck me, sweetheart,” Toni tells him, pressed into the corner of his lips. Steve sweeps his hands down, pushes the diaphanous fabric around her hips and ass out of his way, and obeys.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](http://vicious-rhythm.tumblr.com/)


End file.
